Run Committed

Zero

Boot Camp is about to start. My campers are trickling in. One, a camper who had moved away to another town, has managed to come for a “guest appearance”. We catch up, talking about this and that. Inevitably the conversation turns to Brooke.

“How’s she doing,” a camper asks. I sit on a bench and sigh.

“As of today, we are two weeks seizure free.”

“That’s great,” another camper says.

“It’s a start,” I say, “hopefully two weeks becomes a month and then a year.”

Another camper walks in.

“Time to get these folks warmed up,” I think.

And then my watch rings, followed by the speaker my phone is set to stream music too.

“No,” I say, but I know exactly what she wrote. I know exactly what she is going to say.

Brooke had a seizure. We’re on our way to the hospital.

I look up at my campers. They see it on my face. I don’t have to say a word.

“Go!” they say in unison.

***

“14 days” is gone. The count returns to “0”…again. After throwing my equipment in my car, I race as fast as I can to the hospital. My mind is racing. I hear parts of our broken conversation.

“It was bad,” is what keeps playing over and over in my head. I bang the steering wheel with my fist. I try to stop myself from crying. I scream at the top of my lungs. I am sad, angry, lost.

“14 days” is gone. The count returns to “0”…yet again.

“It was bad,” she said.

I have come to hate the color blue.

***

With each seizure, my run this Fall becomes more deeply personal. I will push and push to raise all that I can to help find a cure for epilepsy. I know I keep asking, and I am so grateful that you keep giving. With your help, I have raised $10,340. With your help and at your urging, I have raised my goal from $3,250, to $5,000 to $7,500 to $10,000 to finally $15,000.

If you are moved to donate, you can do so —> HERE <—. I would also be just as grateful for prayers for my little one and shares of this post.

My hope is that someday, we will never have to return to zero.

Brooke, this past weekend, so happy to be hanging out with two of her best friends.

Brooke is in my prayers every night; you all are. We will pray when you can’t, because there are no words. Hold on to that, it helped me when our little one was fighting scary medical issues. I asked everyone I knew, and barely knew, to pray because I didn’t have the words.

Praying and hugging you all virtually. You just described the first 17 years of my daughters life. She is now 24 and I’m happy to say seizure free since 2009. Reading this brings it all home, but just know there is hope! We never gave up..neither will you!